


Another Happy Landing

by Aurae



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fandom 5K 2020, Feelings Realization, Gen, M/M, Major Character Injury, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Mission Fic, Obi-Wan Kenobi UNLEASHED!, POV Alternating, Pre-Slash, Pre-Star Wars: Attack of the Clones, Trandoshans (Star Wars), Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24077404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurae/pseuds/Aurae
Summary: After a territorial dispute erupts between the Wookiees and the Trandoshans, the Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice Anakin Skywalker are sent to determine the legality of a Trandoshan hunt scheduled to commence shortly on Rische 7.If they aren’t careful about what they do and say in front of the hunters, however, the Jedi observers might themselves become the hunted…
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 16
Kudos: 69
Collections: Fandom 5K 2020





	1. Anakin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xslytherclawx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xslytherclawx/gifts).



“Take evasive action!”

“Way ahead of you, Master.” Anakin yanked hard at the steering and mashed the pedals with both feet. The beat-up landspeeder’s chassis shrieked in furious metallic protest as the reverse thrusters were inappropriately engaged while the forward thrusters were still set to maximum power. They spun counterclockwise just under 270 degrees on a vertical axis and skidded to an uneasy, shuddering halt.

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan’s tone of voice held a distinct note of warning, even if it was noticeably short of breath. He didn’t like fast driving, fast flying, or fast _anything_ , and Anakin suspected he might have a weak stomach. Really, though, Obi-Wan was being silly with his concern—it wasn’t like he ever forgot to wear the landspeeder’s restraining harness. (“Safety first,” Obi-Wan always liked to say as he insisted that Anakin, too, wear a restraining harness.)

Anakin cut all power to the reverse thrusters, and the landspeeder shot forward in their new direction precisely 0.548 seconds before their pursuers screamed past in their own landspeeder, gunning at maximum speed in what was now precisely the wrong direction to catch Anakin and Obi-Wan. Anakin threw back his head and laughed; the joy of speed was the ultimate hit of adrenaline, and only a driver with Force-assisted reflexes as good as Anakin’s could pull off a maneuver like that. He reckoned he’d bought him and Obi-Wan an extra 7.5 seconds at least…and that was if their pursuers were able to avoid that abrupt cliff rise, which…

Nope, the crashing sound and subsequent small thermonuclear explosion suggested that they hadn’t managed.

“Oh, right. You were saying, Master?” Anakin asked, innocence personified as they dropped altitude, following the downward-sloping curve of a ridge which ought to provide visual concealment while they widened the distance between themselves any bad guys in immediate pursuit behind them. This would, at best, only delay them on a temporary basis, Anakin knew, for once they’d lost the proverbial scent they would stop at nothing to regain it. They’d hardly even pause to rest or eat while on the hunt.

That was just how Trandoshans _were_. The trick to surviving one of their hunts was to never become their quarry in the first place, which…heh heh heh. Oops.

“Hmm, what _was_ I saying?” Obi-Wan muttered, rubbing his eyes and pretending to be tired when he was actually queasy. “Ah yes. I do believe I was saying that conducting an effective independent assessment of the legality of Trandoshan hunts on Rische 7 ought not to involve participation in one of said hunts—definitely not as hunters and _most definitely_ not as quarry!”

Anakin huffed and made an unnecessarily abrupt turn with the landspeeder, which made Obi-Wan swallow hard. He wasn’t going to apologize for what had happened, no way, no how! “Those were younglings in cages at base camp, and I’ll be damned if I was going to let them be hunted down and—”

“Those were _Trandoshan_ younglings,” Obi-Wan interrupted, “and as you well know, my young apprentice, the Jedi Order does not to interfere in intraspecies conduct and affairs. We were sent by the Senate to investigate allegations of unauthorized and/or illegal hunts, and we found no evidence of—”

“But they’re hunting younglings! That should be illegal, Obi-Wan!”

“I would remind you that ‘should be’ is not the same as ‘is.’ Some sentient species abandon their young to fend for themselves when they are less than a tenday old. Other species cannibalize excess offspring to alleviate the strains of overpopulation on planetary resources. Are these species to be detested or, worse, punished for what comes naturally?” Obi-Wan paused before answering his own rhetorical question. It was one of his more insufferable habits. “No, Anakin, it is not. And neither is it our place to pass moral judgment.”

“Hunting other people’s offspring isn’t just about what comes naturally,” Anakin retorted. He clenched his jaw and tried to keep his focus on the terrain ahead instead of the burgeoning anger he felt rising in the back of his throat. (“Such emotions are unbecoming of a Jedi,” Obi-Wan always liked to say. Anakin occasionally wondered if Obi-Wan had forgotten how to feel strong emotions altogether, like how a muscle gradually atrophies from lack of regular use.)

“No, it is not,” Obi-Wan agreed. Anakin shot a glance at him out of the corner of his eye, surprised that he’d been willing to concede anything at all in this debate. “Nevertheless, the larger point stands. How they may choose to organize their affairs is their affair. Trandoshan parents receive considerable monetary compensation for offering their offspring up to a hunt. And should a youngling succeed in evading the hunters and surviving the hunt for a full standard month, that youngling will be promoted to the highest echelons of what is otherwise a rigidly stratified society with limited opportunities for the less fortunate.”

“Yeah, _if_ the youngling survives. You know damn well how often that’s likely to happen, Master.” Parents selling offspring to hunters? Why, it was no better than slavery! Actually, come to think of it, it was worse than slavery because at least most slave masters worked nominally to protect their investment and did not merely hunt it down and kill it for sport! Gods, the situation made him so mad he couldn’t think straight. And besides, what sort of horrible, shameless person could blame him for how he’d reacted, for what he’d done…?

“Language, Anakin; please do not make me remind you again,” Obi-Wan said blandly, like he’d had his emotions surgically removed in order to optimize Jedi Knight functions. “Alas, however much we might wish for it to be otherwise, we have no say in how the Trandoshans comport themsel—goodness, Anakin, do we need to be traveling this fast? You need to pay better attention to where you’re going. What are you— _watch out!!_ ”

Too late. The nose of the landspeeder caught the jagged hook of a tree root at full speed and flipped, end over end over end, so fast that Anakin had only a split second to reflect upon how they both would’ve been bodily ejected from the vehicle if they hadn’t been harnessed, and that forced ejection might have been preferable to the uncontrolled rolling they were doing instead, before everything in his head went suddenly…

…comprehensively…

…definitively…

… _dark_.


	2. Obi-Wan

Obi-Wan’s temples were pounding, and it honest to goodness felt like all of the blood in his body were being forcibly pumped up into his head. Which, actually, now that he thought about it…

He was hanging upside-down, the straps of a landspeeder’s restraining harness digging sharply into his shoulders the only thing keeping him from falling the remaining fifty or so centimeters to the ground headfirst. His initial temptation was to unlatch the harness and free himself, but he resisted the impulse. Instead, he took a deep, steadying breath and directed his thoughts inward, assessing himself for any injuries. He sensed nothing serious—excellent. That just left the brash young Padawan who’d gotten them into this whole mess.

“Anak—oh. Oh dear…”

Much like Obi-Wan, Anakin was hanging upside-down in the driver’s side restraining harness of the landspeeder. Unlike Obi-Wan, however, he appeared to be unconscious, and there was a fresh, bloody wound on his head. His breathing was steady.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan tried. “I would very much appreciate it if you managed to wake up. The Trandoshans will surely notice this crash in short order…assuming, that is, they haven’t taken note of it already. They will in any case be on us in full force of numbers if we do not put some distance between ourselves and our present compromised location.”

No response. Of course not.

Obi-Wan heaved a deep, long-suffering sigh and took a moment yet again to reflect upon the, err, _unexpected_ turns his life had taken over the past nine years. Then he curled his torso as far forwards as he could and unlatched the restraining harness.

“Oof!” His shoulders hit the ground first, sending all manner of minorly irritating aches and pains shooting through the rest of his body. He hadn’t landed on his head, though, and that was something. He figured he ought to check to make certain they weren’t already surrounded by their pursuers. Because if they were indeed surrounded, he’d be making his final stand here at the site of their landspeeder crash, defending an unconscious, upside-down Anakin.

He sidled forward and popped his head out from beneath the overturned landspeeder. He looked left, and he looked right. Nothing. He peered forwards into the wooded thicket directly ahead, and detecting nothing hiding in there either, he chanced a quick clamber to his feet to check the blind spots. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Excellent.

Obi-Wan ducked back underneath the landspeeder. This was going to be awkward, but there was nothing for it. With one hand, he reached for the latch to Anakin’s restraining harness. The other hand he positioned underneath Anakin’s head, to cushion his fall. “Well, here goes,” Obi-Wan said and released the latch.

Anakin fell to the ground in a heap…or rather _most_ of him did. His left leg was caught in the footwell—it looked like the space had buckled inward during the crash. Obi-Wan tugged on Anakin’s shoulders, and his leg pulled free of the confinement.

The lower part of the leg was bent at an unnatural angle. Broken. Even if Anakin did wake up, he wasn’t going to be able to walk. “That’s not good,” Obi-Wan muttered. He was going to have to carry him, which…come to think of it, he was glad Anakin was still unconscious. Anakin was terrible at being ill or injured, and awake he was likely to be insufferable.

“Well, here we go then,” Obi-Wan said as got them both out from underneath the wreck and threw Anakin over one shoulder. He needed to find a place for them to hide where he could tend to Anakin’s injuries in relative safety. Then maybe they could look into getting word out to the Council about their current predicament.

Not, given the circumstances, that Obi-Wan was feeling particularly optimistic about the Council’s ability to fix things.

Obi-Wan did not like politics, and ancestral interspecies feuds were among the worst kinds of politics. According to the Wookiees, Rische 7 had been hallowed ground since time immemorial, and this was evidenced by the ancient wroshyr trees, otherwise native to the Wookiee homeworld of Kashyyyk, covering the moon’s surface. According to the Trandoshans, Rische 7 had been an ancient hunting ground since time immemorial, and this was evidenced by the ritual hunts staged on its surface every year without fail and documented for hundreds of years.

The Wookiees and the Trandoshans were prepared to go to war over their differences, with the Wookiees claiming that the hunts were illegal under Republic law, and the Trandoshans disputing the Wookiees’ claims of illegality, accusing them of base slander and libel. The Wookiees wanted the Trandoshans off the moon altogether; the Trandoshans wanted the Wookiees out of their affairs. Tensions were escalating quickly. So Obi-Wan and Anakin had been sent to witness a Trandoshan hunt, both to ascertain the truth of the matter and to adjudicate as necessary.

“I suspect what is really going on is that, in the lawless, pre-Republic past, the Trandoshans used to abduct Wookiee colonists of Rische 7 for their hunts. Although no Wookiees live on the moon anymore, they are a long-lived people with long memories,” Obi-Wan had told Anakin while en route. “The Wookiees may be prosecuting old grudges against the Trandoshans.”

“I don’t like Trandoshans. They’re thugs,” Anakin had groused.

“Yes, well, I understand that you’ve had negative experiences as a boy on Tatooine and that this might make you sympathetic to the Wookiees’ position,” Obi-Wan had replied. “But given that there have been no registered complaints of forced abductions, it is important that we be duly skeptical of the allegations against the Trandoshans.”

As usual, Anakin hadn’t listened. They’d come to Rische 7 to inspect a hunt, and now, thanks to that refusal to listen, _they_ were the ones being hunted through the moon’s ancient wroshyr forests.

“Climbing trees are going to be out of the question with your leg like that, I suppose,” Obi-Wan said between labored breaths. Perhaps a hollow at the foot of a tree would do…provided that it was out of sight. He could use foliage for added camouflage if necessary. “After this is over, Anakin, remind me not to take you for burgers at Dex’s diner quite so often in future. Argh, Gods, why do you have to be so heavy?!”


	3. Anakin II

Twenty-one hunters and three individual quarry, plus one huntmaster. That meant seven to one odds, which did seem rather skewed in the hunters’ favor, but of course Anakin understood full well that the true magnitude of the advantage wasn’t about the numbers. It would, rather, depend upon the nature of the quarry in question. Seven Trandoshans versus one krayt dragon, for instance, was a heck of a different scenario than seven Trandoshans versus one womp rat.

“Yes, an explanation of the procedure would be most appreciated,” Obi-Wan was saying. “While I confess I have attempted to do some reading on the subject, I find that theory cannot hold a flametorch to practice.”

Anakin tuned a third of an ear towards the conversation his Master was having with the huntmaster, but the remaining two thirds of his attention was focused on the base camp, which looked less to Anakin’s inexpert eyes like the staging of a hunting party and more like the staging of a party party. Yeah, that’s what it looked like—a party. Of the sort rich Republic citizens held outdoors on wildlife sanctuary worlds such as the forest moon of Endor. They might think they were roughing it, but they still enjoyed more privilege than the average inhabitant of the known galaxy…

“—do not need to hunt to live and eat anymore, naturally, but the hunt remains as an important recreational activity. The average Trandoshan will participate in a median three hunts over the course of his or her lifetime, and the hunt is a tradition that helps to make us who we are, both as individuals and as a species. Huntmasters such as myself are responsible for organizing hunts and ensuring their success.”

“But you do not participate in the hunts yourself?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Never. These hunts are for the hunters, not for me,” the huntmaster replied.

For which the hunters should be grateful, Anakin thought. The huntmaster was old and canny and the only Trandoshan Anakin had encountered on their mission to Rische 7 thus far that he wouldn’t have liked to meet alone on the street in Mos Espa. The rest of the Trandoshans at base camp looked like mid-level government bureaucrats on holiday, and they were imbibing intoxicating beverages at a likewise festive (read: fast) rate.

“And what of the quarry?” Obi-Wan continued. “Are you responsible for sourcing them?”

“Yes, that’s correct. Though more often than not I don’t have to seek them out. Their families bring them directly to me—”

“Where are they? Can we see them?” Anakin interrupted suddenly.

“Why yes, of course. I hope you’ll forgive a bit of a walk. I prefer to keep them separate from the hunters so as not to cause them undue distress…”

Anakin had already stopped listening. Alarm klaxons were going off in his mind, and his instincts told him where to go. He hastened forward at a fast jog ahead of both Obi-Wan and the huntmaster.

“You must forgive my young apprentice,” Obi-Wan was saying in the distance behind him, “He can be somewhat overenthusiastic…”

The tent was well-camouflaged but easy to spot when one knew where to look. It appeared to be unguarded. Anakin tore through the entrance, heedless of any danger, and inside he found…he found…

Three Trandoshan younglings in cages. They might as well have been slaves. Two were adolescents, perhaps a few standard years younger than Anakin himself, but they were both small for their age and probably undernourished. Pitiful. What kind of sport were they supposed to make?! And as for the third—! The third was so young her scales still retained their natal striping; she might as well be a _baby—_

Anakin roared—

“Whoa there! I know it hurts, but since I seem to have misplaced my medkit, I’m afraid that since you’ve awakened you’re just going to have to grin and bear it.” Obi-Wan. It was Obi-Wan. Where…? How…?! “Anakin, calm yourself and listen to me: Your leg is broken and needs to be set. Best to get it over with quickly, I think. If you want something to bite down on…”

“No. Just get it over with quickly,” Anakin ground out through clenched teeth.

“Alright. Take a deep breath—”

Anakin roared again as stars seemed to go nova along his nerve endings and his thoughts were scoured clean by white-hot agony. Awful, awful, awful! This pain was worse than the pain of the break itself. Involuntary tears trickled out of the corners of his eyes. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t remember how the break had happened. Also, his head was _throbbing_. “Ugh…Master…what happened…?”

Obi-Wan said nothing. Instead, he concentrated on lashing a straight length of wroshyr wood to Anakin’s leg with torn off strips of Jedi robe. Anakin winced as he knotted the last of the strips of cloth tight. “There,” Obi-Wan said. “That will have to do for now. Would you like some water?”

“Yes, please.” Anakin closed his eyes, feeling more tears fall. He didn’t want to look at his Master; he was too ashamed to see his disappointed expression. Wasn’t he meant to be stronger than this?

A lukewarm trickle of water slid between his lips. He gulped thirstily. 

“Not too much,” Obi-Wan reminded him. “I don’t want you making yourself sick.”

Anakin tried to laugh and coughed instead. “I think that bantha has already left the barn.”

“Hmm. Maybe so.” The palm of Obi-Wan’s hand, rough with callouses but infinitely gentle, wiped the tears from Anakin’s face. Then he began stroking the top of Anakin’s head and smoothing out the Padawan braid behind his ear. “It’s past nightfall. Get some rest.”

That was an order Anakin would’ve liked to have obeyed, really he would have, except he couldn’t seem to get comfortable. He was lying on the ground, and the leaf litter provided little insulation. It was cold. He was starting to shiver.

“You may be going into shock. Here, let me…” And then Obi-Wan, solid and wonderfully warm, was holding Anakin close.

Mmm, that was nice. Very nice. Anakin liked being held. He pressed closer to Obi-Wan, his face tucked against Obi-Wan’s chest. His split, sore bottom lip brushed the bare patch of skin at the base of Obi-Wan’s throat. That touch made Obi-Wan stiffen for a moment, but then he sighed and relaxed and wrapped one arm around Anakin’s shoulders. Soon he was asleep, his breathing deep, rhythmic, and even, and Anakin felt comforted and safe enough to join him in slumber.


	4. Obi-Wan II

Obi-Wan had assumed they would have no other choice but to lay low and do their best to avoid the Trandoshan hunters until the hunt had concluded. But he hadn’t counted on how resourceful Anakin could be even when he was unable to walk.

After taking Anakin’s explicit instruction, Obi-Wan had returned to the wrecked landspeeder and scavenged it for parts, which he’d then carried back to Anakin. Several trips later—and one wrecked landspeeder which Obi-Wan had endeavored to conceal as best he could so as to confound any trackers—Anakin had managed to construct a long range comlink strong enough to reach the nearest sectorial switchboard. Given just the right planetary alignment, they ought to be able to send and receive messages from Coruscant.

There would, however, be a considerable delay before the message they’d sent would reach the Council and further delay while they awaited the Council’s considered response. Two-way, real-time communication was still an impossibility. And so, Anakin spent most of his free time hopping about with makeshift crutches and grumbling about what the big, ugly bump to his head was doing to his looks, while Obi-Wan spent most of _his_ sighing, hoping Anakin wouldn’t be seen, and wondering—yet again—how his Knighthood had been reduced to this. At least sleep stopped Anakin’s grumbling, and Obi-Wan had to admit that he found a sleeping, and most importantly a _non-speaking_ , Anakin to be a pleasant person to pass his nights with. Their closeness at night reminded Obi-Wan what he often forgot in the midst of his annoyance during the day: how deeply he cared for his Padawan.

At night, he was able to forgive Anakin’s perennial frown and furrowed brow, which never completely eased, not even while he slept. Anakin was prone to nightmares, Obi-Wan noticed, and sleeping close to his Master seemed to ease his nocturnal distress. The fit of their bodies in repose pleased Obi-Wan in their complementarity, and he had taken to brushing affectionate, feather-light kisses onto Anakin’s sweetly scowling face…

That scowl had been in full form and not at all sweet at the Trandoshans’ base camp. Anakin had come flying out of that tent, ignited lightsaber leading, overpowering the huntmaster in an instant. The entire camp had then been treated to Anakin’s yelling: “Release them, or you’ll spend the rest of your life in a prison cell less comfortable than theirs!”

Needless to say, the Trandoshan hunters had been something less than pleased to see a Jedi threatening their huntmaster—and worse, threatening to call off their highly anticipated hunt. Though Obi-Wan had pleaded with Anakin to lower his saber, pleaded with everyone to _please_ listen to reason and allow cooler heads to prevail, in the end he’d felt he’d had no other choice but to surrender.

The Trandoshans had confiscated their lightsabers. Then they’d given them the landspeeder and a sporting head start. The rest, as they say, was history.

In any event, when, after nearly a tenday in hiding on Rische 7, the comm from Coruscant did arrive, it did little to improve either Jedi’s mood.

“The Trandoshans assert the right to punish individuals who attempt to interfere in the outcome of a hunt.” Mace Windu’s voice was flat and emotionless, like he was discussing the weather and not a life or death situation for members of the Order. “You have already been condemned _in absentia_ and are to be treated as quarry in the current hunt on Rische 7. Should you survive, you will of course be exonerated of your crimes.” Here, Mace paused a moment before continuing. “I trust that two Jedi are more than equal to such a challenge.”

Anakin made a disgusted noise. “He wouldn’t care if our heads ended up stuffed and mounted on a Trandoshan trophy wall!”

“Hush,” Obi-Wan admonished him. “I’m trying to listen to this.”

Anakin stormed off in a fit of pique, muttering about stupid, useless Jedi High Councils and stupid, useless crutches. Obi-Wan turned his attention back to the comm.

“—Council will attempt to negotiate on your behalf, but in meantime I’m afraid our hands are tied. Please stay alive and away from trouble. Windu over and out.”

Ah well, that was no different than he’d expected, but it wasn’t the end of the world. They’d successfully evaded the hunters thus far; the climate this time of the year was mild; and forage was abundant. As for sleeping next to Anakin each night, that was…hmm. “I guess this means you’re stuck here with me for a little while longer,” Obi-Wan called out. “Sorry about that—err, Anakin?” How odd. Something didn’t feel quite right. He could’ve sworn he’d seen Anakin hobble away in this general direction, but… “Anakin?”

Obi-Wan turned a corner, and in a small clearing between three wroshyr trees…

Anakin, in a heap on the ground, entangled in a net, surrounded by vengeful circle of twenty-one Trandoshan hunters. One of the hunters was kicking Anakin in the stomach. Another was stomping with a booted, durasteel-heeled foot on Anakin’s already broken leg. Anakin screamed in agony, the Force between him and Obi-Wan flaring to life, stained cruel crimson and orange, so that Obi-Wan felt Anakin’s pain like it was his own. “Stop struggling and shaddap, you mammalian filth!” a third hunter said and kicked Anakin in the head, right in the place he already had that big, ugly bump.

Obi-Wan’s awareness of Anakin’s pain stopped then, abrupt as a slamming door. For all he knew, that last kick might have been enough to _kill_ him. They were killing Anakin—Anakin! Obi-Wan’s beloved young apprentice, more precious to him than any other person in the—

“ _No_.”

The anger wasn’t hot, and no, it didn’t burn. Instead, it was as cold as ice, and it had ice’s pure, crystalline clarity:

The Trandoshans. The Wookiees. The outcome of the mission to Rische 7. None of it mattered to Obi-Wan anymore. Only Anakin. Anakin was the only thing in Obi-Wan’s universe that mattered.

Obi-Wan didn’t remember much after that, if he was honest. But twenty-one Trandoshans were soundly defeated before he eventually managed to return to himself.


	5. Anakin III

Anakin wished he could have seen it. Unfortunately for him, however, he’d awoken in the Jedi Temple’s Halls of Healing, long after the excitement had passed.

Obi-Wan had been infuriatingly vague about what had happened. “You were attacked,” he’d said. “The attack on you brought the hunters out into the open. I was able to end the hunt without further casualties.”

“And?” Anakin had prompted. Clearly, there were things Obi-Wan hadn’t been willing to say.

“And what? And nothing. That’s what happened.” Obi-Wan had shrugged. “Get some rest now. You had bleeding on the brain and a compound fracture. You still need to recuperate.”

Recuperation, bah! What Anakin needed was a good story! It’d taken the Padawan rumor mill to _really_ get him up to speed, and what they’d told him had been almost unbelievable. According to the rumors, Obi-Wan had charged the Trandoshan hunters—unarmed—and defeated all twenty-one individuals by himself. As in, singlehandedly. The hunters weren’t skilled combatants, no, that was true, but even so one against twenty-one was incredible. Obi-Wan must’ve fought with the tooth and claw fierceness of a rabid rancor.

And he’d done it because he’d thought Anakin in danger. Possibly dead. This point was not lost on Anakin.

He worked hard to keep that in perspective during the inevitable dressing down from the Council.

“The Order has agreed to pay 500,000 Republic credits in restitution,” Mace Windu explained. “Nevertheless, a bond of trust between us has been broken, and it will take much time and work to restore.” Windu’s tone of voice was positively dripping with disapproval. _This is your fault, Anakin_ , he didn’t say, but Anakin heard his meaning loud and clear anyway. “I hereby confirm that the Council has received your report, and we are in accord with your finding that the hunt was not illegal. The Wookiees have no standing to demand that the Trandoshans vacate Rische 7.”

Anakin sucked in his breath. He couldn’t resist a protesting reminder. “But they were hunting younglings!”

“In accordance with the relevant rules respecting Trandoshan hunts as ratified by the Galactic Senate, you became legal quarry for the duration of the Rische 7 hunt. Also in accordance with the relevant rules respecting Trandoshan hunts as ratified by the Galactic Senate, your defeat of the hunters in combat resulted in the immediate conclusion of the hunt and the liberation of all individuals named as quarry. That includes the two of you, and”—here Windu glared straight at Anakin—“three Trandoshan younglings.”

Anakin recalled the three pitiable younglings he’d seen in that tent. The Trandoshan hunters had been so insulted by Anakin’s attack on their huntmaster that they’d focused all of their efforts on him and Obi-Wan. The younglings had therefore survived the hunt unscathed, and Anakin was unashamed to feel glad about their freedom. Nothing they’d accomplished on their mission would stop similar Trandoshan hunts, though. Somewhere in the galaxy right now, Gods knew, Trandoshan hunters were stalking and killing their own offspring for sport! “What about—” Anakin began.

“This is not the time, Anakin!” Obi-Wan hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

Anakin subsided into sullen silence. Obi-Wan was right, however much he hated to admit it. He was in no position to be picking a fight with the Council over this, especially not given how close a brush with his own mortality he’d just had. Even so, it rankled.

The remainder of the debriefing concluded in the usual, boring manner. Obi-Wan and Anakin were given two tendays of return into residence at the Temple before they should expect to be assigned a new mission offworld. Anakin was instructed in no uncertain terms to use his time wisely, which meant boning up on ethics and philosophy of the High Republic Classical Period.

Something in one of those moldering, dusty texts probably had some deep relevance to the outcome of the Rische 7 mission, at least in Windu’s mind, but since Anakin had never cracked open a High Republic Classical Text that hadn’t been forced upon him, he had no idea what that might be.

And when, after the debriefing had concluded and they were the only two beings in the Council Chamber, he asked Obi-Wan if maybe Obi-Wan could just give him the right answer so that he could get back to practicing his lightsaber forms with the (grumble, grumble) new lightsaber he’d had to build, Obi-Wan simply shook his head and favored him with that patented, vaguely insincere-looking Kenobi smile.

Anakin frowned. “Aww come on, Master! You know I can’t stand—”

But then Obi-Wan did something that surprised him. Instead of the usual long-suffering sigh and rehearsed admonishment about impatience, he stepped in close to Anakin, close enough to feel the warmth of his natural body heat. Then Obi-Wan did something that surprised Anakin even more. He reached up with one hand and rubbed Anakin’s forehead with the pad of his thumb, like he was trying to smooth out the creases that had formed there. It was almost a caress. Obi-Wan’s expression was uncharacteristically unguarded and fond. “I’m so glad you’re alright,” he said.

“Master, why wouldn’t I be alright?” Anakin was confused, and the odd caress didn’t stop. “Master, what are you doing…?”

Then Obi-Wan did something that surprised Anakin most of all. He placed both of his hands on the sides of Anakin’s face, pulled him forward, and kissed him.

END

**Author's Note:**

> Posted to the exchange on May 28, 2020.


End file.
